Our story

Washington Square, in the heart of Greenwich Village, on a Saturday afternoon. About twenty chess tables are arranged in an arena-like formation. A tourist approaching is alarmed. He hears shouts. He sees intimidating men making grand gestures, unable to discern whether they express joy or anger. The principle is simple. Each table belongs to a homeless man, a chess virtuoso. A paradox: an outcast from society haranguing passersby to play a game.

At the main table, a disheveled rabbi faces off against a boastful Jamaican. A few feet away, a well-to-do young startup entrepreneur is being torn apart by a homeless Slavic man whose prison tattoos impose a sense of distance. At every table, it's a competition to see who can bang the loudest on the clock. A few shouts, accusations of cheating, Yiddish answered by Rastafarian. Despite appearances, an atmosphere of perfect friendship reigns! Chess imposes peace amidst its chaos.